Eternity Gate

by Traci Harding

  With a heavy sigh, Taren nodded. ‘I shall be back.’ She closed her eyes and thought of Dan, but that didn’t seem to work.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Rhun queried the delay.

  ‘I’m thinking of Dan, and no dice.’ She shrugged.

  ‘Perhaps think back to the scene of the crime, instead?’ Rhun suggested.

  When Taren took that suggestion on board, she got some quantum traction and took off.

  In her absence, Rhun was feeling anxious, not being as sure of events as he outwardly projected. If he screwed anything up, he could always call on his little brother for aid, but at this point that was a last resort. He did have some idea of how he might right the wrong done to the Lord of the Otherworld and his wife, but it was going to take time to organise, and he wanted to be fully prepared with a solution before facing his brother’s wrath.

  He was mentally playing through different scenarios of how he might achieve his goals when Taren reappeared — soaking wet and really pissed off.

  ‘You were wrong!’ She was dripping like a drowned rat.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Rhun hopped off the chariot to speak with her. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Nothing happened! Dan wasn’t there! The hunting party sent to retrieve him wasn’t there either!’

  ‘Damn it!’ Rhun turned away to vent his frustration.

  ‘What are you mad about? I’m the one who got drowned,’ Taren chided, as she wrung the water from Jiang Hudan’s long black hair. ‘However, there is some good news.’

  ‘I could use some,’ Rhun turned back eager to hear it.

  ‘The cursed storm is already in full swing.’ She splashed Rhun with water, as she threw her arms out for emphasis.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Rhun wiped himself off, still doubtful. ‘How do you know it’s not just a regular —’

  ‘There are storms,’ Taren said, understanding his doubts. ‘And then there is a tempest! The squall I just left was the latter.’

  ‘But how? Who?’ Rhun posited, baffled.

  ‘I have no idea!’ Taren, having made her point and beginning to shiver, imagined herself dry, and it was so.

  ‘We should speak with Telmo,’ Rhun decided, returning to his seat upon the chariot. ‘I have to take you to him anyway, before I collect Zeven and Jaz.’

  ‘You’re not afraid we might have missed something here?’ Taren queried, as she took a seat behind him.

  ‘Fear is a waste of time in our line of work.’ He hit the half-orb shaped telepathic control plate, and focused on returning to where he had left Telmo.

  Subsequent to the whirlwind of quantum light in motion, their transport arrived in the same place, thirty years on, to find Telmo seated on the luminous crystal cluster that Avery had fashioned into a throne-like chair. In his hand he held another chunk of the glowing crystal that lined the inside of this cavern, and with its light Telmo was reading a bamboo chronicle, much like those Jiang Hudan had written during her time at the House Yi Wu Li Shan.

  ‘Oh dear,’ he observed, having looked over to acknowledge their arrival. ‘From the concerned look on both your faces, I assume something is amiss. Let me guess, Dan wasn’t where you left him.’

  ‘You know that?’ Taren was a little annoyed that he had not spoken up a little earlier.

  ‘I do now that I have been brought forth to the future beyond such events, where I can just read the recent history as written by the local chroniclers of the Zhou court,’ he explained. ‘In this case, Shao Gong Shi.’ He referred to the bamboo scroll he was holding.

  ‘That is Shi’s account of Dan’s death?’ Taren was immediately intrigued, and Telmo nodded. ‘Where did you get that?’

  ‘From the Hall of Records at Hoajing, where else?’ He shrugged, as if it were nothing.

  ‘That’s an important historic document!’ Taren freaked.

  ‘I’ll be sure and send it back where I found it.’

  ‘Did the cursed storm lead Song to venerate Zhou Gong accordingly or not?’ Rhun got straight to the point, as he had other places to be.

  ‘Yes it did,’ Telmo was happy to advise.

  ‘Excellent!’ Rhun clenched both fists and drew his arms close to himself in a jerking motion, to highlight his small victory. ‘Is history on track then, or is there some other disaster I need to know about?’

  ‘Yes. No.’ Telmo answered both queries in turn, happy to dismiss Rhun’s lingering doubts. ‘We’re on the right track.’

  ‘Thank fuck for that!’ Rhun, who had been through this mission three times over now, was so very relieved to hear it. ‘I’ll be back.’ With a wave of appreciation and a thumbs up, he returned to the chariot and vanished with it, to collect the few remaining members of the team.

  ‘So what did happen to Dan?’ Taren found herself a smooth rock to sit on close to where Telmo was seated, to be enlightened.

  ‘Following the construction of the great city of Chengzhou, Zhou Gong dedicated himself to defining the Government and offices of Zhou, penning many defining texts on the subject, to ensure continued aid and service to the common people and society at large. Much like his father, the duke was so absorbed in his work that his own health suffered.’

  ‘He worked himself to death,’ Taren concluded, sad, but not entirely surprised.

  ‘It says here,’ Telmo referred to the scroll in his hands, ‘that the duke was on his deathbed in Feng, and requested to be buried at Chengzhou, to make it clear that he would never depart from King Cheng.’

  King Cheng being the name given to Ji Song after the quashing of the rebellion in the East.

  ‘Yet Dan was at Fengjing, Zhou’s ancestral home, rather than with the king at his court in Chengzhou?’ Taren found the situation at odds with Dan’s final wishes.

  ‘In this timeline it eventuated that Zhou Gong did not resign his office, but Song, fed up with the duke’s constant overseeing, commanded the duke to Fengjing. Effectively banishing him, without formally having to do so. But Song kept the court healer, Fen Gong, with him at Chengzhou.’

  Taren felt this was a rather malicious act, as the pair of scholars worked very well together and were fast friends. Dan gave Fen access to earthly knowledge and wisdom, Fen awarded Dan spiritual insight and was an excellent researcher; Taren imagined that without each other, their daily lives would have been laborious, as there were few others who shared their pursuit to understand the greater mysteries of creation. ‘Without Fen to share his workload, watch his health and ensure the duke ate,’ Taren’s eyes narrowed, ‘Song effectively allowed the duke to work himself to death, and Fen was not there to prevent it.’

  Telmo raised both brows in challenge. ‘Better not to judge, or jump to conclusions.’

  ‘That is difficult when Zeven just drove my other half to his death,’ Taren stated, as the whooshing sound of the chariot returning could be heard behind her.

  ‘Well, the cursed storm did bring the original will of Ji Fa to light,’ Telmo referred back to the text to distract Taren from the new arrival. ‘Whereupon Song discovered the will in which his father, Ji Fa, decreed that Ji Dan be next to rule, and learned that the duke of Zhou had later written a forgery of the document that had made Song king. Upon realising the great sacrifices Zhou Gong had made in order to establish a clear line of succession, Song was filled with remorse and vowed to venerate the Duke, to live by his virtues and govern via the guidance of heaven. The storm reversed on itself. The grain was blown back upright and in the end there was a great harvest.’

  ‘All’s well that ends well.’

  Taren turned about to find an aging Ji Song — Rhun was already disappearing to his next destination. ‘Of all the low things to do!’

  ‘Hey?’ Zeven held both hands up in defence. ‘Do you really think I would have done that, knowing how pissed off you would be at me right now? I only just got here!’ He calmed a little. ‘Rhun just gave me a quick brief. I am very sorry I was such a little prick in one of my zillion past lives in another universe, okay?’


  ‘Okay.’ Taren accepted that. ‘I’ve been a pain in the arse on more than one occasion myself.’

  ‘You certainly have,’ he agreed, and then noting her scowl, he back-pedalled. ‘But not often.’

  Telmo had a quiet chuckle at this.

  Taren chose to ignore him. ‘So who cast the curse of that storm?’ She opened the question to both her companions.

  ‘The text is unclear on that issue,’ Telmo offered up what he’d read. ‘It only mentions that there was a storm. It speculates that it could have been sent by Dan’s great ancestors. Others speculated the great mother of Li Shan, Yi Wu, returned to cast the curse to teach Ji Song a lesson.’

  Zeven served Telmo the evil eye, knowing Yi Wu was one of his past life incarnations. ‘Did you?’

  Telmo forced an unconvincing laugh. ‘Would I do that to you?’

  ‘Yes!’ Zeven didn’t have to think twice about it.

  ‘Most believe the storm was sent by Tian, to make Song repent his ways,’ Telmo put forth one last theory, and he and Taren looked to Zeven.

  The old king threw his hands up. ‘You are in the body of Jiang Hudan,’ he posed to Taren, ‘how much of her previous life do you remember now?’

  Taren had to admit she saw his point. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘And that’s how much I remember.’ He closed his case.

  ‘So how much did Rhun tell you?’ Taren queried.

  ‘He told me I was in the shit over Dan’s demise … that we’ve lost over half our crew including Wu Geng, damn it,’ he said, vexed about it. ‘The Dropa were never here, thus their anti-aging technology is not here to fix these aging bodies!’ He referred to his geriatric form, even more aggravated about that. ‘The timekeepers never made it to Kila, yet, insanely, Rhun needs me to hang about in this old bag of bones, as he now wishes for us to tempt fate yet again and accompany him to Kila!’ Zeven summed up. ‘Did I miss anything?’

  ‘Nope … that’s about it in a nutshell.’ Taren awarded, as Rhun and his chariot touched down with the aging Jiang Huxin.

  ‘Tell me he is bullshitting about the Dropa not being here to make me young again!’ she begged, as Rhun hopped off the chariot to aid his aged team mate safely out.

  ‘I wish!’ Zeven dashed her hopes.

  ‘This is not what I signed up for!’ Jazmay employed a walking stick to hobble over, but then, being a shapeshifter she transformed into Jazmay Cardea, whose genetic structure was much younger. ‘Just kidding.’ She offered the walking stick to Zeven, who did not have her talent.

  ‘Show off.’ He took hold of the staff and threatened to hit her with it.

  ‘Bring it on, grandpa.’ She placed her hands on her long slender hips, to serve up some attitude.

  ‘Great! So I am the only one stuck like this!’ Zeven objected.

  ‘I only need you for a couple of hours at best,’ Rhun appealed, sympathetically. Rhun had been stuck in an aging body the first time he’d visited Zhou, having been shot with the reptilian Shyamal’s DNA depleting weapon, which had caused his immortal twelve-strand DNA to unbraid to the mortal two-strand DNA. This was how a psychically superior race, like the Chosen of Kila, had been overpowered by the lesser evolved, hostile reptilians under Shyamal’s command.

  ‘So what is the situation on Kila?’ Taren asked noting they were now all present. ‘Why do you need us?’

  ‘Vugar has a vessel parked above Kila,’ Rhun began.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Taren admitted that was a worry.

  ‘He is requesting an audience with the timekeepers. He mentioned Taren by name.’

  ‘What?’ Zeven, Taren and Jazmay chimed in at once.

  ‘He knows we were Grigori once, and named Sammael and Armaros by name, too,’ Rhun concluded.

  ‘That’s impossible!’ Taren thought they’d been so careful keeping their movements a secret. ‘How could Vugar know?’

  ‘The reptilians are a hive-mind,’ Telmo reminded them. ‘Their memory is passed down from one leader to the next, and they have been around since before the Grigori got here.’

  ‘No, no, no …’ Zeven shook his head as he knew what Telmo was driving at, but couldn’t believe it.

  ‘Yes,’ Telmo nodded.

  ‘They remember the incident in Ninharsag’s lab!’ Zeven looked to Rhun, who was there, and Jazmay was cussing under her breath, mind blown also.

  ‘What incident?’ Taren appealed to be let in on the event.

  ‘There was a reptilian present when we prevented the virus being injected into their caste,’ Rhun explained. ‘It heard the entire negotiation.’

  ‘You were mentioned, by name,’ Zeven played over the conversation in his mind.

  ‘Armaros too, as he had been taken to the Underworld,’ Rhun added.

  ‘And Sariel corrected Enki, when he called us time walkers,’ Zeven recollected, ‘so the timekeepers were mentioned also.’

  ‘That does seem to explain the seemingly impossible,’ Rhun admitted.

  ‘Of course it does,’ Telmo sounded as if he knew all this and was just waiting for the rest of them to catch up. ‘The question is … does it mean they have hostile intentions, or not?’

  ‘We were doing them a favour?’ Jazmay appealed.

  ‘From our perspective, we were,’ Telmo cautioned. ‘But the reptilians of Earth were far more powerful with the virus than without it.’

  ‘But these are Draconians. The pure bloods who wanted to avoid the virus, and who abandoned the plight of their caste on Earth to ensure it never latched onto them.’ Rhun, remembering the devastation Shyamal had once served the Chosen, could only be cautiously optimistic at best. ‘Can’t you just pop into the future, like you did here in Zhou, and find out what happens?’ Rhun posed to Telmo.

  ‘You popped me forward in the chariot,’ Telmo reminded him, ‘I just thought to take a look while I was waiting around. You could do the same on Kila, but do you really want to risk starting a whole new time paradox there when we’ve spent so long trying to correct the last one?’

  ‘The Akashic record then,’ Taren suggested.

  ‘Think of it as a library,’ Telmo explained, ‘that has new releases coming in all the time. What happens now is still coming out of the author’s head, and won’t be released for public viewing until complete.’

  ‘Let’s just bloody do this,’ Zeven grumbled, ‘before I have a heart attack and die!’

  ‘Thank you,’ Rhun was sincerely grateful, as the timekeepers had already got way more than they’d bargained for since first landing back in this universe.

  ‘Considering we started all this, it’s the least we can do,’ Taren awarded, as Rhun backed up to the chariot.

  ‘I’ll take Telmo first, and send him back for the rest of you in turn,’ Rhun instructed. ‘I have another quick errand to run on Kila.’

  ‘Aren’t you going to share with the group?’ Taren appealed, as Telmo followed Rhun to the transport. All she got was a wave from them both, before the chariot vanished.

  ‘Telmo gets more like Taliesin every day,’ Zeven grumbled. ‘He’s even starting to look like him!’

  ‘And he’s just as annoyingly know-it-all,’ Taren added.

  ‘That’s the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?’ Zeven put it to Jazmay, who’d taken a seat on the crystal throne, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

  ‘Here we are again,’ Jazmay noted, ‘the original three timekeepers still standing.’ She smiled, impressed by their achievements.

  ‘And you both thought I’d never be able to keep up with you,’ Zeven raised his eyebrows suggestively.

  ‘And you’re still a pervert,’ Jazmay added, ‘only now you’re a short, dirty old man.’

  ‘And you’re still a tease,’ Zeven gave his own view. ‘Only now you’re … still as hot as ever … lucky me.’ He grinned and got one in return.

  ‘You have both been just amazing,’ Taren didn’t often get the chance to say so.

  ‘But I’ve screwed things up between
you and the captain?’ Zeven sounded sincerely sorry for that. ‘I know I seem to keep doing that, but it really was unintentional.’

  ‘We screwed things up, all on our own,’ Taren relieved him of any guilt. ‘All you have done is put things back the way they should have been. Besides, I am fairly sure Lucian will not be very mad at me when I return, as I lingered on AMIE a little while before I came back here.’ She couldn’t keep the grin off her face.

  Jazmay and Zeven both appeared shocked.

  ‘So did I.’ Jazmay dropped the act to admit.

  ‘Yeah, me too.’ Zeven shrugged in league with the rebellion.

  Taren laughed. ‘How fast they learn.’

  In a whoosh of sound and air the chariot appeared with Telmo at the controls. ‘Next!’ He called for someone to get on board.

  Jazmay shoved Zeven in the chariot’s direction. ‘No woman should be left alone with you.’

  ‘I thought you were braver than that?’ he commented as he took a seat behind Telmo.

  ‘I’ll bring the walking stick to Kila,’ Jazmay told him, ‘in case you need it after I get there.’

  Before Zeven could retort, Telmo activated the chariot and vanished with him.

  ‘How to shut the short man up,’ Jazmay chuckled, ‘send him three thousand years into the future.’

  ‘Oh … you love and admire him really,’ Taren suggested, knowing how much they’d been through together.

  ‘No,’ Jazmay insisted. ‘Why did you ever let him sucker us into bringing him along?’

  ‘Because … he’s always got my back,’ Taren admitted, affectionately.

  ‘Yeah,’ Jazmay emphasised, ‘there’s a perverted reason for that!’

  The pair of them burst into laugher, as the chariot arrived.

  ‘Sorry I missed that joke,’ Telmo commented, as both women struggled to regain their composure. ‘But we’re on a bit of a tight schedule here … less than one hour before we meet with Vugar.’

  ‘You go,’ Taren urged Jazmay, who teleported herself to a seat on the chariot behind Telmo.

  ‘Right back,’ he assured Taren with a wink.

  A moment later, Taren was alone in the dim glow of crystals in the cavern.